


Memoria Damnum

by Iwassupposedtostudy



Category: Gentleman Jack (TV)
Genre: A little teeny bit of angst, Anne is wounded, Because every fandom needs at least one of these, By now I think that's kind of my thing, F/F, Fluff, I wrote this instead of studying (surprise), Seriously I think it is some kind of law, She is also confused AF., This is stupid., don't tell me I didn't warn you, i don't know how to tag, this is not good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:47:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27608522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iwassupposedtostudy/pseuds/Iwassupposedtostudy
Summary: The title is a work in progress. So is this story. So are we all. Life is just one big work in progress. That sounded deep, it is not.So I did, Inktober, and one of the prompts prompted me... to write about the assault that took place in episode 5. An idea was born from that, and I rewrote it, and added to it. Inspired by the millions of fanfictions I have read just like this one. I think it's some kind of fanfiction law that at least one of these types of stories must exist in every fandom. I mean it's not great, I just need something to do to keep sane during these times.Anne wakes up after she's been attacked and soon finds out that something isn't right... something is terribly wrong.(Yes, I don't only suck at tagging, writing, and introducing, I also suck at summaries)Enjoy! =)
Relationships: Anne Lister (1791-1840)/Ann Walker (1803-1854)
Comments: 42
Kudos: 81





	1. Chapter 1

“It’s repugnant, it’s against God – it’s Queer!”  
The words kept repeating themselves in Anne’s head, as she tried to convince herself that it was all for the best, and that she really didn’t care that much. Only her heart was aching so much she thought she was actually going to pass out as she walked briskly from Crow Nest.  
How had she let Ann so much under her skin? – No one had ever gotten that close to her, and Anne had been certain that for once she had found someone who understood her, who got her – but she had been wrong. Tears threatened to overspill as she ascended the hillside, and she cursed quietly her own weakness when it came to that girl. She could call her back and Anne would turn around without a second of doubt.  
Anne had barely made it around the corner when a man stepped out in the way,  
“Going home?”  
Anne stopped, she hadn’t seen him, she had been lost in thoughts,  
“What the hell –“  
The sentence wasn’t finished because the man had struck her in the face with his bat, and she was knocked to the ground, feeling a stinging in her cheek and blood running down. Her hat was a good two feet away from her, but she stood up quickly before he got another blow in. But he managed a firm grip on her neck, punching her into the little opening in the stonewall, whilst she twisted and turned the best she could, trying to get him to loosen his neck-breaking grip on her. But the man pushed her up the stonewall, and the blow to the back of her head made her dizzy for a second. ‘That’s it, this is how it ends’ Anne thought bitterly, as the man pushed his bat to her throat, she tried to push against it so that she could breathe but it was getting heavier by each second as her brain was by no means getting enough oxygen.  
“Some folks think it is time for you to go home, Miss Lister.” He spat venomously wearing a twisted grin. Anne was fighting for dear life, moaning and groaning in reply and the man laughed and started to lift her skirt up.  
“You dirty fucking Jack.”  
Her eyes widened when she felt his hand touch her queer, ‘Oh God no”’ she thought as she mustered all strength she had, succeeding to push him away from her – giving him a punch with her right fist, her hand bruising as it struck him. But the adrenalin was high so for the moment being she didn’t care about the pain shooting up her arm. Anne bent down and threw his bat as far away she could. The man was infuriated by this, aiming a punch for her stomach, and she got him in the head again despite going double. The man then gave her a strong straight punch to her nose, and she could feel something burst and felt the blood streaming down her face. She was on the ground but got up through much pain and the man came closer, threateningly, and Anne thought to herself that if he wanted to, he would succeed in killing her. She could barely breathe, her ribs might be broken, but he stopped an inch from her face,  
“Stay away from Miss Walker!” He hissed and then he drew back and spat her in the face. Anne flinched only slightly, watching him as he disappeared through the opening in the stonewall. She did not move an inch until he was out of sight, and as soon as he was, Anne bent over double, and spat out all the blood in her mouth, dry heaving for a second before slowly standing up straight – it hurt her every muscle to do so and she hissed in pain, praying that her ribs weren’t cracked, before she toppled over to where her hat was. Anne bent down to pick her hat up and was struck with a terrible light-headedness, making her stumble and then everything went dark. 

Anne could hear the faint sounds of voices from afar, her eyes remained shut and she found them heavy to open. Her body felt numb, and her head hurt as she made the slightest of moves. Stunned she moved her pounding head a little once more, was her head supported by a pillow? – Last she remembered, she had been bending down to pick up her hat, had she fainted? Anne wanted to groan; fainting was just something she didn’t do. She did wonder though at her not being in the mud still – who had found her? – And, where was she?  
Anne soon drifted out of consciousness again; the pain most acute. 

Sometime later Anne woke again, and she was glad to find the pain had lessened, if but little, with her rest. The muffled sound of voices had died out and Anne could only guess it was late in the night, ‘Good’ she thought, it only meant she needn’t talk about the fact that she had been beaten up with anyone for another while, the whole thing was embarrassing.  
Though her eyes still drooped heavy Anne was now able to force her eyes to open, but she was met with the oddest sight. It was very familiar and looked quite ancient, had they really brought her to Shibden? Anne slowly turned her head despite the pain that shot through with every movement. It did look like her room at Shibden, but how on earth had she, or they managed to get there? It had to be impossible lest she had been unconscious for a long while. Anne finally turned her head to the left and noticed a sleeping form sitting next to her bed. It was a young female, she thought she looked a bit like another she knew but she couldn’t for the world place the woman in her mind at the moment. Why was she was sitting with her during the night though? – The female looked far too elegant and well-dressed to be a servant of any kind, so Anne must assume that she was some or other of her sister’s friends or maybe this was the kind soul that had found her? A sudden sharp shot of pain had Anne groan loudly, and it awoke the mystery companion. The girl looked relieved, and grasped Anne’s hand, Anne looked at the woman who was brown haired, and brown eyed, and felt as confused as before.  
“Miss Lister, you are finally awake!” The girl cried with great joy, and Anne’s lips curled into an uncertain smile.  
“It appears I am.” She replied, her voice hoarse as her mouth was dry. The woman helped her to some water and Anne was grateful when her mouth once more was moistened.  
“How are you feeling? How is your head faring?” The girl asked her as she set down Anne’s glass for her.  
“Eh, it, my body feels numb and my head hurts. I might have cracked a rib.” Anne stammered feeling unsure of how to speak to this woman, especially when her mind was all foggy. The woman gave her a sympathetic smile,  
“It was a nasty gash you got there.”  
Anne hummed in some kind of agreement, but then her curiosity got the better of her, she knew that woman from somewhere;  
“I’m terribly sorry, but who are you?”  
The woman looked alarmed, and suddenly uncomfortable,  
“Do you not remember me?”  
Anne felt sorry at the girl’s apparent distress but couldn’t place her in her mind, though she knew that she had seen her before.  
“I cannot seem to remember your name.”  
The answer clearly wasn’t the one the girl was hoping for, because she paled considerably and stuttered,  
“I’m Catherine Rawson.”  
With one hand over her hurting head she addressed the girl again,  
“Oh, we were… you were there – in the Lake district…” Anne trailed off her head pounding profusely, Catherine nodded,  
“Yes, you came and joined me and Ann quite unexpectantly.”  
Anne was still confused though, because why on earth would Catherine Rawson be sitting with her during the night? She wasn’t even that fond of her. She had been a sourpuss that whole time, had she suddenly changed her mind about Anne?  
“I should tell them that you have woken up.” Catherine stood up, but Anne stopped her before she could leave,  
“Just the one thing, what happened?” Anne’s voice was a bare whisper, and Catherine frowned,  
“You were thrown off a horse.”  
Anne’s eyes widened, and she watched as Catherine disappeared through the door, ‘thrown of a horse’? What on earth was going on?


	2. Chapter II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter II
> 
> Anne gets examined by Dr Kenny, and is left even more confused than before. 
> 
> (Quick disclaimer - I have no medical experience whatsoever. This is entirely fiction. So if something isn't plausible, just roll with it, hehe.)

Anne was left to herself, more confused than when she had woken up. The last Anne remembered was that she had been beaten up on the Lightcliffe road, there wasn’t a horse anywhere near there! Why did they think she had been thrown of a horse? Who had found her?! Had said person, or persons told a fib and made up the bit about the horse to cover up the truth? Did that then entail that whoever found her had something to do with the ambush? Nothing made sense to her, nothing seemed plausible. Anne groaned again from the pain in her head, this was in all too much for her to process at the moment. She needed answers, and rather immediately. To be in the unknown wasn’t her cup of tea at all, and she wondered where they all were. 

Anne needn’t wait for too long, the door opened, and Dr Kenny appeared making Anne’s eyes almost automatically flutter upwards, he was ridiculous. Why had they called on him? Anne made a mental note to talk to Marian about that later as she assumed it was her doing. Marian thought him a good friend of hers, and Anne thought of him as the creep who liked the touching part of his job far too much when it came to ladies, and to be frank – he wasn’t especially good. He was fine but could do with a bit of improvement.   
“How are you feeling, Miss Lister?” Dr Kenny asked her as he approached her bed,  
“I think I might have bruised my ribs; the back of my head hurts and I feel a bit sore. It’s a wonder though at my nose not causing me any pain, or my eyes…” Anne trailed off, thinking to herself that it was quite strange, her lip didn’t hurt as she spoke either – she was certain that the thug had managed to cut her lip open, and her nose had definitely taken a blow – and her eyes should be black and blue. But she couldn’t feel any pain to her face – only to the back of her head. Dr Kenny was eying her with worry evident on his face,   
‘Not a great thing to show one’s worry so clearly as a doctor’ Anne thought annoyed.   
“Your nose? Eyes? Miss Lister the injury was primarily done to the back of your head, and as you say – one or two ribs managed to get a bruising.” Dr Kenny spoke slowly as if he was afraid to say the wrong thing, after all he had been at the wrong end of Miss Lister’s stick before and didn’t want to anger her, even if she could hardly do too much harm to him in the state she was in presently.   
“Primarily? I only knocked the back of my head against the stone.” Anne wanted to know what he meant by that, she was confused, it had hurt when he had pushed her up the wall, but not as much as the damage he had done to her face, then again Dr Kenny was quite lousy.   
“Erhm… Miss Lister, I should clean your wound and change the dressing.” He stuttered; he didn’t want Miss Lister to get upset with him and yell at him again.   
Anne was just about to open her mouth to repeat her question when he touched her head and the pain rendered her of all speech and she hissed. Dr Kenny removed the bandage used to keep the dressing in place and he was relieved that Anne stayed quiet. She did stay quiet because she was focusing hard on not whimpering from the acute pain to her head – she knew Dr Kenny was a gossip and she sure didn’t want him running around telling all of Halifax that she was a weakling. He finished cleaning and dressing her wound again and Anne was a good patient for the time being.   
“Now, Miss Lister, I wouldn’t recommend anything but bedrest for at least another three days. Your rib needs to heal, even if it’s only bruised, and you shouldn’t overexert your head.” Dr Kenny ordered her, though with little authority in his voice, she suspected he didn’t dare to command her to anything. She was a little amused at this, but no smile grazed her features, instead she gave him a serious look, completely bewildered,   
“Did you say for another three days?”   
“Yes?” Dr Kenny looked apprehensively at her, his forehead seemed to get shinier by the second,   
“As in, an additional three days?”  
“I’m not sure I follow you, Miss Lister. You’ve been unconscious- well in and out for the past three days and what I meant was that you need to rest for another three days. At least.” Dr Kenny explained, and Anne’s eyes widened in shock, as she processed what he was saying. Had she been unconscious for three days? Had the man snuck up on her and knocked her out when she bent down to pick up her hat? – It just didn’t make sense! Anne was starting to get really frustrated.   
“I’d recommend you drink lots of fluid and to stay in bed – don’t physically exert yourself for the following three days, I will come back and examine your head then.” Dr Kenny told her hurriedly, she suspected he wanted to be on his way, or rather not stuck in a room alone with her. She unnerved him, frightened him. She smiled pleased. He was an odd little man, and she didn’t trust him. She would ask her sister to call for Dr Day in three days and not Dr Kenny.   
“Thank you, Dr Kenny.” Anne dismissed him and he left her after bowing awkwardly her way. Anne was left alone again, and she felt even more insistent on knowing what had happened now than before. 

Dr Kenny had helped her up against the pillows, and Anne was glad to be sitting up against something. She brought her hand up to her face and touched her lip, running her fingers over it but it was entirely smooth, a bit dry but no cut. Her fingers trailed from her lip up to her nose, but she couldn’t detect bruises, and her nose wasn’t swollen at all. She felt around for the wound she knew had been made on her cheek – but nothing! Anne was beginning to be really creeped out now, though she couldn’t see, she touched the area around both her eyes, but she wasn’t sore – there were no black eyes. It was uncanny, and she didn’t like it one bit. She desperately needed to know what had happened.   
‘Surely, someone must know?’ Anne thought.


	3. Chapter III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne is if possible left even more confused than before... but maybe she is also a tad more hopeful than before... 
> 
> Chapter III

Shortly after Dr Kenny had left her, she heard someone with determined strides come up the hall and she suspected they might’ve talked to Dr Kenny downstairs.  
This someone opened the door swiftly and Anne hoped it was her aunt. It wasn’t. Anne first saw her blonde curls, and felt a tug at her heart, she was really rather pretty, and Anne wondered why she was there? How could she so casually walk in after what she had said? As Anne saw her the words came back to her, tearing through her heart slowly, ‘It’s repugnant, it’s against God, it’s queer.’ If Anne weren’t so practiced in reeling her feelings in, she might’ve sobbed at the sight of her, the ache in her heart almost surpassing the pain in her head.  
Ann did look quite dishevelled though, her hair was loose and wild, her robe was open over her nightgown, and she looked as though she hadn’t slept in days. Anne blinked hard twice, why was Ann Walker in her bedroom in her nightgown and her robe? Why was she there at all? She didn’t want to… She had told Anne she couldn’t do it anymore. She had ended things between them, she had hurt her. Why was she there? Anne’s head was reeling with all the possible explanations – was Ann the one who had found her? But then why would she say that she had been thrown off a horse? It made no sense. 

Anne startled when she affectionately took hold of her hand, and she pulled her hand out of her grasp, a bit harsher than she had intended. Ann looked, well, confused to say the least.  
“Pony…” She began but Anne looked at her with disapproval,  
“Why would you call me that?”  
“What?” Ann looked genuinely puzzled, and Anne might have taken pity on her had she not been annoyed with the great pain in her head and plagued by her last words to her.  
“For both of our sakes, you should probably remove yourself from my side.” Anne said well dry, and Ann tucked her curls behind her ears, and Anne could’ve sworn she saw tears brimming in the blue eyes. ‘Catherine had said she was acting a bit out of sorts’, Ann thought.  
“Remove myself from your side?” She repeated raising a quizzical eyebrow and Anne rolled her eyes,  
“Surely, you understand such an easy request? Hm? I’m after all unnatural and queer and you don’t want anything to do with me!”  
Anne thought she saw hurt flash briefly over her face, but it was gone before she could see it properly, and besides, those were Ann’s words, and Anne was the one hurt not her.  
Ann didn’t leave but sank down in the empty chair next to the bed, head in hands, dragging them over her face before looking directly into her dark upset eyes again, and with a nervous exhale she asked her,  
“Why would you say such things?”  
“Why would I?” Anne muttered, “You said them to me!”  
Ann flinched as she yelled the last bit, and Anne regretted it immediately as it sent sharp shots of pain through her head.  
“When have I ever said that to you?” Ann looked at her upset, and Anne frowned, did she seriously not remember the conversation, the falling out they had gone through three days ago?  
“Three days ago! You told me that you couldn’t do this anymore and that what we did was ‘Repugnant, against God and queer’.” Anne sneered at her, and Ann’s eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open,  
“Three days ago?”  
“Yes, three days ago.” Anne sighed rolling her eyes, this was ridiculous, “In your drawing room. Are you seriously going to sit there and deny it?!”  
Ann shook her head slowly, eying her with worry etched across her tired face,  
“But that’s…”  
“Are you going to deny it?”  
“I did say that, and I am truly sorry that I did – but it wasn’t three days ago!?” Ann told her, earnestly and Anne closed her eyes trying to make some sense of this whole mess.  
“Dr Kenny said the accident was three days ago though. Is that not correct?”  
“The accident was three days ago.” Ann agreed and Anne opened her hands, looking bewildered at her,  
“If that’s true then, that’s also when you said that to me.”  
“What? No? Anne… that’s a long time ago!”  
“No, we had that argument, you said those… words to me and I left and was attacked by a thug and somehow left unconscious.” Anne reasoned exasperated, but she didn’t anticipate that Ann would grow paler at that,  
“You think that was three days ago?”  
“If that’s when the accident was, then yes, that happened three days ago.” Anne was beginning to lose her temper, she wanted Ann to leave her – it hurt too much to see her sit there, casually as if… as if, Anne couldn’t let herself finish that thought – it was too painful.  
“Oh, Anne!” Ann exclaimed, concern evident in her voice,  
“What?! Ann just tell me already!” Anne barked, but immediately grimaced as her head was disturbed. Ann reached out to take her hand in hers, but Anne moved it out of reach, and this time the sadness and hurt were clearly visible on Ann’s face. But Anne ignored it for now, as best she could – that girl really had a hold on her that she couldn’t explain.  
“The last thing you remember before waking up here is that you were attacked by that thug on Lightcliffe road?” Ann waited for confirmation and Anne sighed loudly,  
“Yes, as I keep saying.”  
“Oh… maybe we should call for the doctor again before I…” Ann was interrupted by Anne groaning,  
“Just tell me.”  
“I fear that you might have suffered some memory loss – or rather a lot.” Ann told her seriously, eying her intently, waiting for a reaction of some sort. Finally, after what felt like an eternity to Ann, Anne’s mouth opened,  
“Memory loss? How… what… it’s not possible. What day is it?”  
“It’s the twelfth of December.” Ann began and then she added reluctantly, “1835”.  
Anne felt slightly dazed at that, she pressed her fingers to her aching head, willing the pain away so she might think clearly. Surely it wasn’t possible to lose three years’ worth of memories… not when she remembered so clearly what had happened.  
“Anne? Do you need me to fetch the doctor?” Ann asked her anxiously when Anne had failed to say anything for about four minutes.  
“No.” Anne cried, slowly looking up at Ann again,  
“This isn’t possible.” Anne muttered to herself, and Ann’s eyebrows furrowed,  
“I can get the calendar if you like?”  
“Is my aunt alive?” Anne asked ignoring Ann’s question, dreading the answer but Miss Walker’s expression softened, and she replied her thus,  
“Yes, she is in perfect health, or I mean as well as she can be with her legs.”  
“Oh.” Anne felt much relieved, relaxing a little against the pillows before tensing again,  
“1835!?”  
“Yes.” Ann nodded,  
“But… what am I doing here? What are you doing here?” Anne wondered, and Ann seemed uncomfortable with the queries,  
“I don’t know if I am supposed to answer your questions. We’d better consult someone; it might thwart your recovery if I simply tell you everything.” Ann tried; in reality she was mostly scared of Anne’s reaction. If her memory alluded from where she said – then she was pretty upset with her, and justly so.  
“Just…”  
“I’d really feel much more comfortable knowing I wasn’t hurting your recovery.” Ann pressed, and she saw Anne roll her eyes, and she felt a twinge in her heart – she had really hurt Anne that time, with those words.  
“Fine.” Anne muttered and Ann stood up, touching Anne’s cheek with her hand affectionately, not thinking, it was done out of habit and Ann were about to quickly withdraw her hand when Anne caught it in hers, her eyes going wide, she didn’t trust her eyes,  
“Where did you get that ring!?”


	4. Chapter IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne and Ann talk things through... 
> 
> Chapter IV

“Tell me where you got that ring!” Anne demanded her again, her heart racing in her chest, blood rushing loudly in her ears, she would recognise that ring anywhere – it couldn’t be another. Ann twisted uncomfortably, which Anne took notice of and her heart began hammering harder in her chest – what if it wasn’t that ring but another. Had Ann married that rapist and then seriously sat herself in her sickroom to taunt her?   
“Well?” Anne stared at the ring, her head giving her hell at the moment on top of it all.   
“I’m not sure I should tell you.” Ann murmured eventually; she looked a bit alarmed at Anne waiting for her retort. Ann wasn’t really cut out for any yelling today. She hadn’t slept for three days, her back was sore, and she was certain that if Anne did start shouting and saying things now, she would break down and cry inconsolably.   
“It’s a wedding band.” Anne’s voice was low and a bare whisper, as if she didn’t want to believe it, had she married him then? Hope dwelled in her chest though, surely it was her ring!? – That must be the ring she had ordered, he couldn’t have picked a ring so similar to hers, surely? Unless, Ann had picked it herself of course. Anne’s eyes regarded her closely, and Ann tried to hide away her hand, hesitant of what to do. She didn’t want to slow Anne’s recovery. How did one treat memory loss anyway?  
“No.” Ann replied meekly, and Anne frowned at her though it made her head throb,   
“It is! Who have you married?” Anne sounded accusing and to be fair, she was, Ann had and was breaking her heart. How could she choose to be with that fucking rapist rather than her? When she could make her so happy.   
“I… I can’t say.” Ann stuttered, her eyes avoiding Anne’s dark ones.   
“Why? – If you do not tell me you might as well leave.” Anne growled and Ann grimaced,   
“I’m afraid you will overexert your head, and Dr Kenny said…”   
“Dr Kenny is an idiot!” Anne exclaimed and Ann frowned,   
“Yes, but… I don’t want to hinder your recovery.”   
“You’re not. Seriously tell me or leave me. Either way it’s going to plague me more if you do not tell me.” Anne snarled at her and the blonde looked extremely conflicted about what to do.   
“Are you seriously taking advice from Dr Kenny!?” Anne pressed further and Ann’s eyes darted to her and they were brimming with tears, she was much too tired to be pushed like this.  
“Anne…” She begged her, but Anne wouldn’t heed her,   
“Is it him? That scum Ainsworth!?”   
Ann’s face turned to that of mild disgust for a second, and Anne wondered at why that was. Her hopeful heart told her it might be because she hadn’t and that she was hers, and her pessimistic brain told her it was because she had just called her husband a scum.   
“Anne, no!”   
“It isn’t him, or you don’t want me calling him names?” Anne continued and Ann looked miserable, how was she supposed to get Anne to rest her head when she wouldn’t let things be?   
“Anne, they told me to let you rest.”   
“Do you seriously imagine I will be able to rest until I know? When we…” Anne trailed off, it was too painful. Ann eyed her with sympathetic eyes, taking her hand in hers, and this time Anne didn’t pull away – she couldn’t be bothered, she was too tired, too hurt to fight back.   
“I can tell you in a few days when your head is better. Its’ been a long few days, and…”  
“In a few days!? Why would you torment me like that? Undoubtedly you must comprehend what agony that would mean for me!” Anne cried upset, and Ann bit her lip anxiously, pulling her hair behind her ear,   
“Calm down Anne, your head…”   
“Leave.”   
“Sorry?” Ann seemed perplexed,   
“I don’t want you here, I don’t want your pity or your… it’s too painful! Not that you would understand- to you I’m just repugnant and queer!” Anne barked, and Ann flinched but little, a traitorous tear running down her cheek,   
“I am your wife!” Ann squeaked out, tears rapidly following the first one, Anne became speechless for a second, she just stared at Ann in disbelief. Despite her hopes, she hadn’t expected it to be true, she had not allowed herself to go there in her mind.   
It wasn’t often she was speechless, but she teared up,   
“But you said… when did we? How did we?”   
Ann couldn’t help but grin wide at her, she stood up and sat down gently on the side of the bed instead, running the back of her hand against Anne’s wet cheek,   
“I realised that there was no other I’d rather spend my life with and, and that I’d rather die than to be without you!”   
“Really?” Anne whispered her voice frail, and Ann kissed her forehead sweetly,   
“Truly. We took the sacrament in church last Easter. The 30th of March 1834.” Ann told her smiling and Anne’s face almost lit up in a smile,  
“Is that all true? This isn’t some sick joke that someone put you up to?”  
“Of course, it’s all true! I would never hurt you – not deliberately anyway, not again.” Ann told her sincerely and Anne reached up to cup her cheek, running her fingers along it and down her neck, making her skin tingle and she closed her eyes leaning into Anne’s hand. It had truly been the worst three days of her life not knowing if Anne would wake up again. She had sat by her side through most of it, though they had forced her to rest in her own bed on the third day, telling her she would be no good to Anne if she perished. Ann hadn’t got much rest though and then she had heard Catherine come bustling down the corridor.   
“I’m sorry for all the things I said before. I…” Anne began but Ann shushed her softly,   
“Don’t apologise. How were you supposed to know? And if your memory alludes from when I said those unforgivable things, then you had every right to be upset with me!”  
Anne were about to ask her for a kiss, when she felt another blinding pain from her wounded head, and she moaned loudly. Ann were immediately alarmed, checking her temperature with her wrist against her forehead, and eying the bandage intently.   
“Do you want me to ask them to fetch the Doctor, I’ll tell them to get Dr Day if you like, Marian were the one who asked for Dr Kenny.” Ann asked and Anne shook her head very slowly not to upset her wound, her eyes closed to better stand the pain.  
“No. It’s late. I only over-exerted my head. Rest will do fine.” Anne murmured, and Ann stroke her over the shoulder down the arm affectionately,   
“You should sleep, I’ll be right here if you need anything.” Ann smiled small, and Anne’s lips twitched slightly upwards and she gave a small nod. Ann bowed down and kissed her over the brow tenderly before carefully standing up from the bed to seat herself in the chair next to it.   
Anne held her hand out for hers, and Ann took it, their fingers intwining, and Ann watched as Anne’s breathing became calmer and deeper as she drifted off to sleep, and she felt her own eyes grow heavy with sleep where she sat. How would they explain her memory loss to the others?


	5. Chapter V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne is told some things of the past... 
> 
> Chapter V

Anne awoke, probably, a few hours later – the room was lit up by the sunlight outside in any case. She could still feel Ann’s hand in hers, and she glanced to her side and found Ann’s head resting on the bed, close to her hip bent over from the chair. Anne couldn’t help but smile down at her, she was so precious. A rush of joy went through her as she realised this was her wife! This wasn’t just Ann Walker with whom she had a causal connection with, this was Ann Walker – her wife! If ever Anne had been happier to wake up, she didn’t know it.   
Ann stirred on the bed, and her head turned up, and her eyes met hers. The blonde smiled, though she seemed to realise that her head was lying almost pressed up against Anne’s hip, and that she might not be comfortable. Anne however beamed, and ran a hand through her blonde curls, bringing her hand up to her mouth to place a kiss on her knuckles, turning her hand around lingering with her lips on her wrist for a second but her eyes found a white scar, and she frowned.   
“What’s that? I don’t remember seeing that there before.”   
Ann flushed a little and withdrew her hand from her grip, sitting up properly,   
“It’s nothing.”   
“It doesn’t look like it was nothing.” Anne pressed her; she had an inkling on what that scar meant but she didn’t want to believe that.   
“It’s old.”   
“Yes, but it’s clearly not older than three years. What happened?” Anne looked troubled,  
“I was in Scotland, and I thought I’d never see you again, that I would never be near you again and I thought I couldn’t stand it… so I…Oh Lord…” Ann trailed off clearly she found this difficult to speak of, and Anne looked appalled, tears threatening to fall, as if the sheer image in her head of Ann trying to end her own life was breaking her heart.   
“Ann.”   
“It’s fine, Elizabeth found me before I… she wrote to you after that.”   
“Did she?” Anne raised an eyebrow, and Ann nodded,  
“She didn’t tell you that though, and I don’t think you’ve ever properly forgiven her for that, at least not her husband.”   
“Where were I?”   
“Paris. When she wrote. You wrote back with your forwarding address in Copenhagen, but my brother-in-law deliberately misplaced the letter, or destroyed it. When she finally told me after about six weeks I decided to go home, get your forwarding address to Copenhagen and write you.”   
Anne held her hand in hers, stroking her over the knuckles, thinking,   
“And did you? Did you manage to get hold of me?”   
“No. I went straight over to Shibden to ask for it only to have Marian tell me you were already here.”   
“How come?” Anne asked,   
“You had been called back because of your aunt.”   
“She is alright? You said before…” Anne began and Ann nodded,   
“She is… downstairs… Oh God! I should probably tell her you are alright!”   
Ann released Anne’s hand and jumped up in a bit of a frenzy, realising she had selfishly stayed with Anne, without telling her aunt Anne that she was awake and alright, except of course the minor problem with her memory loss.   
“But you will come back?” Anne looked at her expectantly as Ann turned around by the door, and she beamed,   
“Of course I will. I just need to pop down and explain this whole situation.”   
“Is my father alive?” Anne asked suddenly, and Ann nodded,  
“He’s also downstairs – and I should probably tell him too… only I think Marian and Catherine must have told them something this morning – they were awake yester-night when you awoke.”   
Anne allowed her to leave to deliver some news about her to her anxious aunt downstairs and felt the loss of her company deeply – she wasn’t made for bedrest and she doubted she would manage three more days lying there. Fresh air would only do her good – no doctor in his right mind could advice against it. Then again, Anne thought, Dr Kenny wasn’t most doctors and she would have Ann write to her friend Dr Belcombe and ask him to come. He might know how to cure this memory loss of hers – because she would dearly like to remember. Anne sat up straight in bed suddenly, hurting her head immensely as she did so but she held up her finger,   
“My journals!”   
Maybe if she read her detailed scribbles – the memories might come flooding back to her.   
As soon as Ann came back, she would ask her to retrieve them, and to help her pen a letter to Dr Belcombe – Anne Lister was not going to be cowed by something as silly as a blow to the head and some small, or rather extensive memory loss.   
  



	6. Chapter VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter VI

As promised Ann returned as soon as she had talked to the occupant’s downstairs. Anne was happy to see her.   
“Your aunt will come up to see you in a bit. She’s drinking tea with the others right now.” Ann told her, and the brunette bobbed her head in affirmation,   
“Good.”  
“Oh, do you need anything? A bread roll, or some broth, maybe both?” Ann quirked an eyebrow and Anne, though she probably should be hungry, hadn’t time to think of that right now, so shook her head carefully,   
“No, thank you. I was wondering though, if I could have my journals?”   
“I’m not sure you’re supposed to go about it that way. If you read about it, your mind might conjure memories, and paint the pictures but it might not be the real memories. Couldn’t I send Dr Belcombe a letter? He is after all excellent with this type of injuries.” Ann pleaded, she didn’t want anything to get in the way of Anne’s recovery and Anne decided to let it rest for now and smiled instead.   
“Of course, good thinking. I was just about to suggest a letter to Dr Belcombe myself. There’s no one else I’d trust with my brain. Well, unless Georges Cuvier might make the trip.” Anne joked, and Ann tittered,  
“He might be busy. I’ll write Dr Belcombe, and if he cannot sort you out – it might well do to try and write your old tutor.”   
“Oh no, he’s dead, Ann! It was only a joke. I don’t think we should contact him on the other side.” Anne humoured and Ann blushed slightly, she should’ve remembered that he was passed, had been so for more three years. But her embarrassment was soon forgotten when Anne took hold of her hand,   
“Will you help me pen the letter to Dr Belcombe? The sooner the better I should think.”  
“I’ll fetch paper, ink and a pen in your study – I’ll be back before you can say ‘antidisestablishmentarianism’” Ann called behind her shoulder before hurrying out, Anne furrowed her eyebrows,   
“What? Anti- what? I didn’t hear what you said!”  
It was fruitless, Ann couldn’t hear her, so Anne waited, but not for long. Ann came rushing in the room again with the things needed, shutting the door behind her elegantly, well as elegantly as one could with ones foot. Ann smirked at her,   
“Now did you manage to say it before I came back?”   
“I didn’t even hear what you said.” Anne muttered, and Ann laughed at her, sitting down in the chair,   
“You are such a sore loser! Even when it isn’t a real competition.”   
“If it were, you would’ve been disqualified for mumbling incoherently.” Anne retorted and Ann couldn’t help but giggle, her wife really was an incredibly sore loser. Ann composed herself though and sat up straight in the chair, with the writing desk on her knee.   
“Now, we need to write a ‘well-worded letter’.” Ann said seriously, but there was still a small smile playing her lips. Anne sighed back against the pillows, her head was muddled and upset her, but she tried concentrating on helping Ann compose this letter to Steph.   
“Just, tell him what’s happened. About the accident – I don’t even know what happened, something about a horse? Then tell him that I woke up with absolutely no memory of the last three years. Say to him that I would consider it a great favour if he would come here to have a look himself – that we will pay him generously for all his trouble.” Anne massaged her temples, thinking it might help relieve some of the pain. Ann watched her attentively, wishing she could do more to help her.   
“I’ll make sure to write that.” Ann replied, and put the pen to the paper, opening with a few courtesy lines. He was a good man, and he had been of much help to herself in the past.   
“What did happen?” Anne asked suddenly, and Ann looked up from the paper, her tongue between her lips, eyebrows raised,   
“Hm, sorry, what did you say?”   
“I asked what happened to me?” Anne repeated and Ann let the pen fall between her fingers, her expression suddenly sad and upset,   
“You were thrown off a horse, well my horse, Jack. He must have been spooked by something and gone completely mad and then managed to throw you off, down a stony path. I don’t think I have ever been more afraid than when he came back without you. I set off to look for you – um, they thought I was being silly because you are always alright. Then I found you, unconscious, with that deep gash in the back of your head, blood…” Ann trailed off, she became paler, the mere remembrance of Anne in that state, lying in her own blood – was almost too much to bear for Ann. Anne’s hand reached out for hers, and she stroke her over the knuckles sweetly,   
“I’m here now. I’m fine, well obviously I lack some memories but other than that.”   
“It was horrifying!” Ann trembled, tears rolling down her pale cheeks, “I thought I’d lose you. You were so still, so pale… so unlike yourself. It was frightening. It seemed as though you had already…”   
“Put down the writing things, Ann.” Anne told her firmly, and Ann followed her orders, whilst shaking.   
“Come here.” Anne patted the space beside her, and Ann sat down carefully, still trembling with tears and relived fear and anxiety. Anne, as best she could, sneaked one of her arms around her shoulders, pulling her towards her, letting her rest against her shoulder.  
“Don’t leave me.” Ann snivelled into her chest and Anne ran her hands up and down her arm,  
“I’m right here. Don’t you worry.”   
“When I saw you lying there – I… I collapsed onto my knees next to your body, I tried to put pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding. I must have screamed – I don’t remember doing it, but people came running. Helping me get your body back to Shibden. Marian forced me away to clean off my hands and dress of your blood whilst Dr Kenny dressed your wound and stopped the bleeding.” Ann rambled into her chest, and Anne listened calmly, making mental notes that would go into her journal when she could finally get her hands on it again. Anne kissed the blonde over the hair, trying to comfort her, and ground her through her evident anxiety. Anne supposed it were days of pent up emotions and worry. She didn’t know how she would handle someone she loved almost leaving her – probably not very well. Anne was softer than most would ever know or understand. There was a knock on the door, and Ann sat up, and removed herself from Anne’s side – and she felt the loss tremendously.   
“Yes?” Anne called out, and the door opened to reveal her aunt. Ann gave the woman a smile, picking up the writing things again, preparing to leave the room to finish and send the letter and also give them; Aunt Anne and Anne, a moment alone.


	7. Chapter VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aunt Anne and Anne have a nice little chat, until Marian interrupts them... 
> 
> Chapter VII

Aunt Anne watched over her shoulder as Ann scurried out the door, closing it behind her. before she turned to her niece who was resting propped up against the pillows in bed.   
“How are you feeling, dear?” Aunt Anne asked, worry laced her voice and Anne smiled wide to calm her,   
“I have been better. Then again, I have been worse too!”   
“Ann said, about the memory loss.” Aunt Anne began and Anne opened her mouth,   
“Ah, yes, unfortunate business. But I believe that I shall make a full recovery.”  
“Do you really think that or are you just saying that to make me fret less?” Aunt Anne inquired, sitting down slowly in the chair. Anne sighed, the tiniest bit amused,   
“I’m positive, if not, then we are lucky that I have recorded my life in great detail for nearly thirty years.”   
“Well it would be a good thing if those journals of yours finally came of some use.” Aunt Anne teased, and Anne scoffed,   
“They have been useful! They make sure I don’t make the same mistake twice.”   
“Is that entirely true though?” Aunt Anne questioned and Anne bit her tongue, it wasn’t. She had lived through many disappointments that had went down pretty much the same way. Anne shrugged the sad feelings off and smiled up at her aunt instead,   
“Tell me, has Ann settled well here at Shibden?”   
“Ann? Why yes! She’s a dear. We adore her, all of us.” Aunt Anne said with great delight, and Anne was happy to hear it.   
“I’m happy with her?” Anne raised a quizzical brow and her aunt smiled,   
“I have never seen you happier than you’ve been with her. Of course, you’ve had some hardships. But I suppose that’s only natural – everyone does.”   
“Mm, she really is a sweet person is she not?”   
“We are all fond of her, she has been a great asset to this family. And great at putting an end to most of the bickering between you and Marian – she has brought peace to the house.” Aunt Anne told her with a great, warm smile and Anne felt that, deep within her. She had done it, she was happily married, and her family was happy for her. Anne was pleased beyond measure.   
“Nothing too drastic has happened these past three years, hm?” Anne eyed her, trying to detect if she would lie or not,   
“Well, nothing too drastic no. You were off travelling for a while. For a few months; Paris, Switzerland, and Rome were the great destination during your travels. Ann was delighted. I have scarcely enjoyed so many letters as I did then – from both of you.” Aunt Anne said excitedly, and Anne laughed in disbelief – she had got Ann to go abroad, and she had enjoyed herself! This was great news, everything Anne had wanted seemed to have become a reality. They did have, just as she thought they could have - a rich life together! Anne was more excited than ever and desperate to get out of this sickbed as soon as was humanly possible.   
“That is wonderful. I’m…”   
“I know you are, and it’s nice to see you settled, and content. Not on the run anymore.” Aunt Anne gave her one of her special looks, the mothering kind, that made Anne warm on the inside. She never need fear not being loved; her aunt had loved her through it all.   
“Now, dear child, you must be ravenous, and I will not leave until you’ve had at least some broth and bread! We must get you better!” Aunt Anne stared at her seriously and determined, and Anne sighed,   
“Fine, I will have some. What time is it anyway? Where’s my pocket-watch?”   
“Oh, I’ll ask Ann to bring it for you – she’s kept it safe and working. She is nearing…” Aunt Anne was interrupted by the door swinging open to reveal Marian, Anne fought the roll of the eyes that almost instinctively came whenever her sister barged in and disturbed her.   
“I thought our ‘chief’ might need something to eat.” Marian gave her a pointed look and sat down the tray on the nightstand. Anne picked up the bowl of broth, breaking the bread to dip in it before putting it in her mouth. She closed her eyes as she tasted the food – she hadn’t realised how famished she was until now. Marian’s scoff brought her back though, and she opened her eyes to look at her sister,   
“Hm?”   
“Do you know what time it is?” Marian asked amused and Anne rolled her eyes at her,   
“I’ve been unconscious for three days, I have no watch, how am I supposed to know? As you see, I haven’t got a sundial in my room either.”   
“It’s lunchtime.” Marian smirked, and Anne raised a confused eyebrow at her, bringing another small piece of bread to her mouth, swallowing it slowly,   
“Why is that so amusing to you, Marian?”   
“Oh, nothing, just the fact that you’ve made a claim on never eating lunch for twenty years – and here we are… ending that streak.” Marian told her, clearly finding too much enjoyment in that, Anne thought; the poor thing should really get herself a life, or at least a hobby.   
“I have literally been out cold for three days, and you think I care about whether it’s lunch or not? It’s never been about that. I just don’t eat so close to breakfast. I don’t need it and it’s a waste of time.”   
“You are such a sore loser!”   
“How come this is the second time I’ve been told that today? I’m perfectly well at owning up to my mistakes. And this was never a competition! This was an unnecessary fight because you’ve been ridiculous for twenty years, trying to mother me, when I clearly need no help from you.”   
“Uh!” Marian huffed and took a breath to continue arguing but Aunt Anne held up her hand,   
“Now is not the time, Anne needs to get better before you can start fighting with each other again!”   
“I suppose.” Marian swallowed her argument and Anne stuck her tongue out behind her aunt’s back and Marian gasped again, pointing her finger at her sister,  
“You are such a…”   
“Marian, get out of her! You are disturbing, Anne’s peace, and she needs the rest.” Aunt Anne lectured and Marian stomped out of the room, huffing and puffing all the while.   
“You shouldn’t tease her like that, Anne.” Aunt Anne told her when the door slammed shut, and Anne looked at her surprised,  
“Me? I would never!”   
“You think I don’t know that you stuck your tongue out at her in malice behind my back?” Aunt Anne said and Anne gasped, quietly,   
“You really do have eyes in the back of your head!”   
They laughed with each other, though Anne had to control hers not to upset her aching head too much. It was awful not being able to move about, talk and laugh as usual. Anne couldn’t wait to get out and about again.   
The door opened and Ann popped in, closing the door softly in comparison to Marian who had slammed it.   
“How’s the invalid?” Ann asked in an overly-jaunty voice, and Anne groaned at her, stuffing her mouth with another small piece of bread – not to upset her stomach.   
“I’m not an invalid!” Anne growled at her, and she laughed, shaking her head,   
“Oh how the tables have turned.”   
Aunt Anne laughed with her, and Anne glared at them miserably, eating her bread and broth.   
“Sorry, I’ve just always wanted to say that to someone else.” Ann smiled at her, laughing when she saw her grumpy face.   
“I’ve never called you an invalid!”   
“I’ll leave you two to it.” Aunt Anne declared then, and Ann helped her up from the chair, and helped her out the door before turning her attention back to her ‘invalid’ wife on the bed. 


	8. Chapter VIII

It wasn’t an easy feat to keep Anne in bed, resting that is. She was bursting with energy at all times, and even now, with her head giving her discomfort she found it difficult to be still. Anne was convinced that a short walk couldn’t hurt her, but Ann sat at her side, boring her eyes into hers and deterred her from leaving her bed for other trips than to the necessary and even then Ann was guarding her from a small distance, making sure she didn’t escape her bedrest and fell down the stairs or something worse than that.   
  
Boredom was too light a word to describe the intense restlessness and idleness Anne felt at being confined to her bed. Marian had come in to relieve Ann for a few hours, and Anne was certain that her heart had stopped one or two times from the agony and tediousness Marian brought her. In the end Anne was clutching her head, willing Marian away and hoping Ann would sit with her instead, or her aunt or heck even Argus was better company. Marian had just but controlled her impulse to throw the heavy novel she had been reading from, at her sister for all her complaining but resisted and slammed the door behind her instead.  
  
Ann came inside the room, after having been called back there by Marian who had told her that ‘Caligula’ wanted her company instead.  
“Are you alright, Anne? Head’s not hurting too much?” Ann asked as she approached the sickbed,  
“A trifle, but I’ll soon be back on my feet again.” Anne told her bravely to discard some of the blonde’s fears, but Ann eyed her suspiciously, her face stern,   
“You will not get out of this bed without help unless I give my consent!”   
Anne, who never took well on being commanded about, let alone told off by anyone, was annoyed with her statement and it showed on her face as her mouth turned sour,   
“I think I shall be the judge of that. I’m the mistress of this house!”   
“Anne!” Ann groaned, rubbing her temples, “This is not the time to be stubborn and irrational.”   
“Irrational?” Anne questioned, giving her an angry glare, and Ann sighed,   
“I..”   
“Just because I’m a woman, it doesn’t mean that I’m not capable of taking care of myself!” Anne spat furiously, and Ann groaned loudly,   
“No one’s said that! We all know you can, but I do not trust you, alone, to determine when you are fit to be out of bed again. Because I know you. You are bored and your patience will run out before you are well and, God do I know that you are stubborn and will get out anyways, and I don’t want you to get hurt again…” Ann’s voice made a diminuendo, she started well and strong but in the end her voice was brittle and low. Anne had been bracing herself to keep arguing but went silent when she saw and heard the fear in Ann’s voice.   
“I almost lost you, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you – so please, Anne try to stay patient!” Ann implored her, and Anne sighed, reaching out her hand to dry away Ann’s tears with her thumb tenderly.   
“I’m sorry, I’ll try to be more patient. For your sake. But please don’t get Marian to come up here to read ‘Fordyce’s sermons’ again. Because either I will perish, or she will.” Anne told her with a small smirk, and Ann laughed, leaning against her hand, taking it in hers, and kissing the inside of her wrist,   
“I will make sure of it.”   
“You should rest, Anne – it’s getting late.” Ann said then, and Anne reached for the pocket-watch that had been given back to her, she was nearing ten.   
“Fine. I will. But did you get any reply from Steph?”   
“Mm, he wrote back and said he would come tomorrow if he could get away, but at latest he’d come Thursday.” Ann smiled, standing up from the chair.   
“Excellent. The sooner the better.” Anne tried to stay positive and Ann bent down and kissed her on the forehead gently,   
“Good night, Anne!”   
“Night.” Anne replied and then watched Ann leave with some sadness rooted in her chest. She really didn’t like sleeping alone. But eventually sleep took her.  
  
 _Anne stood in one of the drawing rooms at Crow Nest, and Ann sat before her on the sofa. She had just closed the door behind Catherine Rawson and were now eying Ann with great sadness,  
“I’ve lost you, haven’t I?” Ann said on the verge of tears,  
“You needn’t have.” Anne found herself saying,   
“If I go to Scotland, I’ll never see you again.”   
“That’s not necessarily the case.” Anne hurriedly said, she feels nervous and she’s fidgeting a bit, so unlike herself,   
“I bought a ring. I know you told me not to send for it. But I already had. So. And it really is rather splendid. And I’d be loath to send it back.”   
Anne fell onto one knee, she’s offering her heart, her life, everything that is hers to give. Her heart is filled with hope when she sees Ann reach for the ring, but then she withdraws and cries. The cries echoes through Anne’s mind, and she can’t seem to shut it out, her chest clenches and then everything went black.   
_  
Anne woke up stunned, looking around herself, she was still in her bed, in her bedroom at Shibden. She wasn’t at Crow Nest at all – but it had felt so real. Like she was observing herself and reliving something. Was this a memory? Anne was struck by the thought, maybe it was a real memory, she would have to ask Ann about it. With trembling hands Anne reached out for her pocket-watch. There was a mild pressure over her chest, as her state of mind remained in the dream – in her heartbreak. She flickered the pocket-watch open and saw that she was only five in the morning. No one would be up yet. But she could find no rest now. She needed to know if that was a memory or just a bad dream.   
Desperate to know, Anne carefully flung her covers aside, gently and slowly getting out of bed, ignoring the ache in her head, and ribs. She stumbled a little, because of the dizziness that hit her as she stood up, at first but remained still for a moment and could then slowly make her way to the door.   
  
With some struggles Anne managed to sneak into Ann’s room next door, and the blonde sat up bolt right in bed, frightened by the sounds of the door and steps,   
“It’s alright, it’s only me!” Anne called out and Ann blinked hard, rubbing her eyes, looking her way,   
“Anne! You aren’t supposed to be out of bed without anyone to help you.”   
Anne was vexed by that but pushed it aside and stopped by the bed.   
“I needed…”  
“Sit down before you fall over or faint!” Ann took hold of her arm and forced her down, and Anne was grateful though she’d never admit it of course, that the room had begun spinning ever so slightly.   
“Now tell me, what’s the matter?” Ann gazed at her with concern, and Anne held her head for a moment, to ease the pain before turning her attention to the woman next to her,   
“I had a dream.”   
“A nightmare?” Ann inquired, running warm hands over Anne’s back, and Anne furrowed her eyebrows,   
“I don’t know. Well, that is to say I don’t know if it were a dream or a memory.”   
“Tell me. I might know.”   
“I figured you might, since you were in it.” Anne told her and Ann stood on her knees, sitting up better, and even closer to her,   
“What happened? In your dream I mean.”  
“I was, eh, standing in the drawing room, your drawing room… um and Catherine were there but she left. Then you thought… um that you had lost me, and you said that if you went to Scotland you wouldn’t see me again. I, think I proposed to you with that ring.” Anne nodded towards the ring that sat on Ann’s finger and then her eyes travelled to meet the tired eyes of Ann.   
“Is that a memory? Did that happen?” Anne inquired, and Ann nodded silently,   
“Yes. It did. I wasn’t well.”   
“You heard voices.” Anne said suddenly, looking up at Ann,  
“Yes.” Ann said slowly, “Was that in your dream?”   
“No. I just… remembered. We were sitting with you through the night. They were in the clock.” Anne said confounded, the memory was coming back to her bit by bit.   
“Anything else?” Ann encouraged her, though she looked disheartened with the remembrance of that episode in her life. Anne scrunched her forehead in thought, as she tried to force more of the memory to come back to her but nothing. She shook her head, frowning as her head began throbbing and stinging more again.   
“No.”   
“Well, I suppose it’s good for now. It gives us hope that you will recover from this.” Ann told her pleased, and Anne smiled small,   
“I guess it does.”   
“Now, let us get you back into bed. I’ll hold you under the arm.” Ann stood up and offered her arm, and despite Anne feeling ridiculous at being helped to bed, she was happy for it because her head was giving her hell at the moment.   
  
When Ann tucked her in bed again and were about to leave to see if they could have some tea, seeing as they were now both fully awake, Anne grasped her hand, preventing her from doing that.  
“You didn’t say yes.”   
“Sorry?”   
“To me, you couldn’t.”   
“No.” Ann realised what she meant, and smiled sadly, “I didn’t, not then.”   
“After Scotland? When you asked for my address?” Anne asked, remembering what Ann had told her two days ago, and she nodded,   
“Yes. I’ll back in a short moment.”   
Ann left Anne in bed, and she pondered this, hoping that more memories might return if she focused on the small bits she now remembered, and the things she knew from Ann and her Aunt.  ****   
  



	9. Chapter IX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr Belcombe arrives to take a look at the 'invalid'...

The next morning they all waited anxiously for Dr Belcombe’s arrival, hoping he might bring some light to the whole situation. Anne, more than anyone wanted to be better again. She wanted to get out of bed, and seeing as it was the third day, and she was much better than the first – she had hoped to join them for breakfast downstairs, but Ann had forbidden her to rise from the bed before Dr Belcombe had examined her.  
  
“Don’t look so glum, Anne.” Ann tried to get a smile out of Anne, but she glared at her,  
“Why can’t I get up before Dr Belcombe arrives?!”  
“Because, I said so.” Ann smirked, and Anne huffed, crossing her arms,  
“That’s not a reason!”  
“No, but you won’t listen to reason, so here we are.” Ann joked, and Anne rolled her eyes at her, she was really incredibly done with lying in bed vegetating.  
“He is due any minute now, Anne, have some patience.” Ann tried staying positive, and she leaned down and kissed Anne’s cheek,  
“Mm.” The brunette growled in response, and Ann bit down on her tongue not to laugh at her – she was such a child sometimes, and she loved her for it.  
“You know I’ve heard that staying positive and smiling helps one recover faster.” Ann teased, and Anne couldn’t help to smile a little at Ann, she was a joy to be around.  
“Who told you that nonsense?”  
“You! - When I was astoundingly negative and depressed thinking, we’d not make the travel because I had the flu.”  
“Well then, good advice.” Anne smirked, and Ann laughed at her,  
“I just realised I could tell you absolutely anything – and you’d believe me!”  
“Mm. Well, not anything – if you start saying that I was the best of friends with Christopher Rawson I might catch on you know.” Anne countered and Ann kissed her hand warmly,  
“It’s a good thing that I’ve never been particularly good at lying anyway then.”  
Anne was just about to open her mouth again when they heard a carriage outside, and Ann lit up,  
“He’s here!”  
Ann turned to Anne with a playful grin,

“And soon, if you’re lucky – you are free to roam about again… well, inside the house… But if you are an awful good girl, you might be allowed out on the courtyard.”  
“Why do I feel like a child being lectured?” Anne asked with a puzzled eyebrow,  
“Because you are very much a child in this instance.” Ann retorted but before Anne could fight her on that, the blonde leapt up from the bed to greet Dr Belcombe and show him upstairs. 

There was a firm knock on the door before it opened to reveal Dr Belcombe. Anne smiled at him and greeted him warmly and he returned the compliments.  
“Why I never thought I’d live to see a day where Anne Lister was bedbound.” He said humorously and Anne tittered at that, smirking,  
“Hm, hopefully it’s the last time too. I don’t think I could stand being on bedrest again.”  
“Ah, I suspected you weren’t taking that well.” Dr Belcombe smiled at her, approaching the bed to examine her.  
“How are you feeling?” He asked her, opening his medical bag, Anne sighed,  
“Not too shabby! I’m better. My head still gives me some discomfort, and my ribs still feel a bit bruised though.”  
“Mm, do you get dizzy when you stand up?” Dr Belcombe inquired,  
“Um, I haven’t been up much.”  
“Miss Walker has been able to keep you in bed?” Dr Belcombe seemed amused, he knew far too well that Anne Lister was an energetic being and not prone to idleness.  
“You’d be pleased with her efforts.” Anne replied with a small smile, and he gave a nod.  
“I’ll take a listen to your heart first.”  
Dr Belcombe put his stethoscope over her heart, and leaned in to listen, whilst glancing at the hand on his watch. Anne remained completely still whilst he listened, she wasn’t comfortable, but she was happy it was him. He had by far the best bedside manners of any Doctor she had met, and she trusted him.  
“It all sounds fine.” Dr Belcombe commented as he removed his stethoscope from her chest, packing it away in his bag.  
“Can I take a look on your ribs?” He motioned his hand to her ribcage and Anne complied, and he pulled her undershirt up, to scrutinise her bruised ribs. He looked at them, still a little coloured by the bruising, pushed at them gently and Anne winced but little.  
“They aren’t cracked, which is a blessing – it means you will be able to run about as normal sooner.” Dr Belcombe explained as he pulled her undershirt down again. Anne was pleased to hear it.  
“Now, your head. Let’s have look.” Dr Belcombe moved to remove her bandage and dressing around the head. It was a tad uncomfortable and painful as he touched the area of the wound, but Anne persevered without much sound. He looked serious, frowning as he examined it closely.  
“It’s healing nicely. There will be a scar – but your hair will hide it in any case. I’d recommend you dressing it for another fortnight or so to prevent infection.”  
“But I will be able to get up before that, right?” Anne said nervously, and he chuckled,  
“Yes! You will. Today if you want, but only for a turn around the room, and I will tell Miss Walker and Miss Marian, so there’s no way around it.”  
“I suppose it’s better than nothing.” Anne muttered a little downcast fidgeting with the cover restlessly.  
“Now, regarding your memory loss, which is obviously the biggest damage done to you… Well, as I said, all the external wounds and bruises are healing nicely. From my experience, the little I have had with memory loss – it returns in due time – when the brain has healed from the ‘trauma’.” Dr Belcombe told her, and she gave a nod,  
“Right. I did have a memory come back to me, yesternight, through a dream. I told A, Miss Walker about it and she confirmed it was a memory. Do you think that’s a sign of recovery?”  
“That’s excellent! Yes, it means your brain is healing. Hopefully you will get your memories back soon enough. I’d be careful not to force it though, these things take time.” Dr Belcombe looked optimistic, and Anne bit her lip thoughtfully,  
“Hm, but how long? Roughly estimated, are we talking about a week, a month, a year?”  
“It’s hard to say, it might be hours, or a day, or three or as you say much longer than that. Rest, Anne! – Your brain needs it. Don’t read your journals, I’m not convinced you should force memories back. It might do the opposite.” Dr Belcombe instructed her, and Anne sighed and gave a half-heartened smile, she wanted clearer answers, but she understood that there weren’t any. This was not the most common ailment she granted.  
“Talk to Miss Walker, it might help your brain recollect memories.” Dr Belcombe suggested, closing his bag, Anne watched him,  
“I will.”  
“I have all faith that you shall fully recover from this.” Dr Belcombe said with a kind smile, and she felt brighter at that,  
“Thank you, Steph for coming here!”  
“My pleasure. I hardly get out enough.”  
“How’s Mary?”  
“Mariana? She’s fine, I think. She doesn’t write a lot, but then neither do I. I’m glad that’s over. For your sake.” Dr Belcombe said with a sympathetic look and Anne merely hummed in reply. He knew what the nature had been of their relationship, well enough anyway, but they had hardly ever spoken of it.  
“So am I.” She said eventually, as he kept waiting for a reply, only she didn’t know, because she didn’t even remember ending things definitely with her. But a part of her knew too much water had passed underneath their bridge. It wasn’t good for either of them. Clinging to something mainly because of the familiarity wasn’t always the way forward.   
_“Hasn’t too much water passed under the bridge for that? I don’t think she’ll ever forgive you – or me – for making her go back to Charles that time. After you inherited Shibden. And you’ll never really forgive her for marrying him in the first place.”  
_Anne rubbed the sides of her head, looking up at Dr Belcombe who were getting ready to leave her, with a stunned look,  
“You told me that.”  
“What?” Dr Belcombe turned on his heel to look at her, confusion written all over his face.  
“That too much water had passed under the bridge… about me and Mariana. Didn’t you?”  
“I did.” Dr Belcombe admitted slowly, eying her intently.  
“I just remembered. I was preparing to leave, I think. I asked you about Ann, didn’t I?” Anne looked up at him expectantly, and he nodded,  
“Yes, you did! It was right before you left Shibden for your travels.”  
“I was travelling alone.” Anne frowned,  
“You were.” Dr Belcombe smiled wide at her; this was good progress.  
“I think I might’ve fought with Mariana.” Anne said as a snippet of a memory, involving her thermometer arose in her mind, but it wouldn’t clear up no matter how hard she focused on it.  
“It isn’t impossible, she was quite upset with you for a while there. Anything else?” Dr Belcombe encouraged her, but Anne shook her head slowly,  
“No. Nothing. It won’t clear up.”  
“This is brilliant though, Anne! – It means you are well on the way of recovery. I will leave you now and leave instructions with Miss Walker and I will come back and examine you if you aren’t better any time soon. You can always write me or have someone else do it.” Dr Belcombe said, taking leave of her and Anne responded in kind. She felt much more positive after his examination, though she feared that it would be a difficult feat to persuade Ann to let her outside for a short walk. **  
**


	10. Chapter X

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what to write in the summaries... but it's about Anne and Ann, talking about this ordeal...  
> Also this chapter was partly inspired by ABBA's song "If it wasn't for the nights", I listened to it while I wrote, imagining Anne as the narrative of the song... it works well... (Or it's you know me, trying to not think of GJ and Sj for one straight minute)  
> Anyway Hemingway...
> 
> Chapter X

“How did it go with Dr Belcombe?” Ann wondered as she came inside the room, shutting the door to give them privacy, before turning completely to Anne on the bed.  
“It went alright, but I suppose he told you. He didn’t dare leave me to instruct you.” Anne smirked, and Ann lit up, biting her lip beaming,  
“He wasn’t wrong though, was he? If he’d left you to it, you would’ve done it your way.”  **  
** “True!” Anne laughed, twisting on the bed to get herself more comfortable. Ann came straight over, sitting down on the edge of the bed, stroking her hand with hers,  
“Dr Belcombe seemed very happy with you. He said that he expected a full recovery.”  
Anne bobbed her head, and offered Ann a kind smile,  
“I’ll be glad when it is over! It… I would like to remember.”  
“I understand that. But…” Ann silenced for a second, focusing her eyes on Anne’s fingers as she played with them absentmindedly,  
“But what?” Anne tried to capture her eyes with hers, and Ann looked up, seemingly nervous,  
“If you, for some reason, didn’t get your memories back. We’d create new ones, and I’d tell you about the past and we could have a read from your journals – where I could offer my perspective…”  
Anne brought her hand to her lips, placing a fond kiss on top of it,  
“Thank you. Yes, we’ll get through this. No matter the outcome. As my Aunt said, my endless journaling might finally have served a purpose.”  
“Well, I think they have always served a purpose… for you! They are after all your journals – they aren’t novels or something for other people’s eyes. They have helped you cope and allowed you to pour your heart out when there have been no one to tell – they have been your constant friend.” Ann told her considerately, and Anne melted a bit, running her fingers down Ann’s chin,  
“You are too kind, much too good for me!”  
“I’d do absolutely anything for you!” Ann countered with a gaze of utter affection, “And you would deserve every last bit of it.”  
Anne’s heart filled with such adoration for the woman in front of her. Ann had evolved so much as a person, and really come out of her shell. She was much more confident and at ease. They were good for each other. They brought out the absolute best in each other.   
“Kiss me?” Anne whispered, eying her attentively, tenderly, and Ann grinned at that, turning properly towards Anne and getting up in bed on her knees. Ann leaned forwards pecking her cheek, just by her ear, softly, moving to the other side to repeat. Then Ann placed both her hands on the sides of her face, pressing her lips against her brow, feeling herself almost tear up, her thoughts filled with ‘what if’s’ ‘what if Anne hadn’t made it?’. Ann pulled back, hands still resting on Anne’s cheeks, she looked into her dark eyes, and Anne raised her lips to hers and Ann caught them with lips, kissing her wife for the first time in a while. It began tenderly, slowly but soon grew more passionate, more urgent but then Anne’s wound stretched, and she groaned in pain against Ann’s lips and she drew back worried.  
“Did I hurt you?” Ann was looking at her wide eyed and troubled but Anne, though her eyes were shut to cope with the pain, shook her head once,  
“No. It’s just… I got a bit too excited and moved to quickly.”  
“Do you need anything?”  
“No! Just don’t leave me.”  
“I won’t!” Ann reassured her, but then she frowned, eying Anne who was evidently in great pain despite her trying to put on a brave façade.  
“Can I do anything? Cold compress? Brandy?” Ann’s voice faltered as she looked at Anne whispering, “Opium?”   
Anne couldn’t help it, the laughter came flowing out of her mouth, quite startling Ann, who became red faced, but Anne stroke her over the cheek so fondly, so amused,  
“No! That’s quite alright. I don’t… I’d rather cope with the pain. But thank you!”  
Ann was still embarrassed that she had even suggested it, and Anne placed a kiss on her nose, sneaking her arm around her, resting her own head against Ann’s shoulder,  
“You really would do anything for me!”  
Ann glanced down at Anne who grinned though her eyes were shut.  
“I have never… I just thought you… I don’t even know where to…”  
“Shush you, I’m not offended, and I know you haven’t and wouldn’t.” Anne kissed her neck before nuzzling nearer her again, something so familiar about her, and being near her that calmed Anne and almost seemed to settle the pain. Ann were about to ask her something when she felt her calm breathing on her neck and noticed that Anne had fallen asleep against her shoulder. She smiled down at her, placing a gentle kiss on top of her head, mindful not to move too much – she didn’t want to upset Anne’s wound accidentally and disturb her sleep.  
  
_Anne approached a woman, not any woman but Lady Harriett, Vere’s half-sister. She is feeling giddy, and she leans in to confide in her,_  
_“I just spoke to the Princess Caroline for more than ten minutes.”_  
_Lady Harriett gives a pleased nod,_  
_“I’ve kept meaning to ask, Miss Lister. Did you ever hear any more about your friend in Scotland?”_  
_Anne feels as though she’s been punched in the stomach, and as though all air has escaped her, she has tried to not think of Ann, for a second she had thought herself happy and having a good time but now…_  
_“No. I didn’t. I can only conclude that her sister didn’t like my advice.”_  
_“Oh dear. Oh, I’m sorry.” Lady Harriett replies her, and she looks as though she might’ve realised it was a touchy subject, but Anne merely mumbles a ‘m’ in response before seeking something to distract her from thinking of Ann and how much she misses her._  
_She had been unsuccessful thus far, neither London, Paris nor Copenhagen had made her at ease she thought. Whirling around the room, suddenly dancing, though she scarce remembers how she came to do it. If it wasn’t for the nights, she thought, I might have done alright._  
_The ballroom grew blurrier, as she spun around the room with this woman in her arms, Sophie Ferall, the name popped in her head, but she became blurrier, faded and everywhere Anne turned she saw Ann’s face before her inner-eye._  
  
“Anne.” Ann roused her gently, running her fingers through her hair to soothe the brunette who twisted and turned in her dream against Ann’s shoulder mumbling things, incoherently. Her dark eyes opened, and she seemed a bit delusional at first. Sitting up, running her hands over her face and eyes, looking around herself, as if she didn’t quite comprehend where she was.  
“Anne?” Ann held her still, and she turned to her and exhaled loudly,  
“You’re here!”  
“Yes…” Ann became a little concerned, hoping Anne hadn’t lost any more memories, but the woman closed her eyes and leant against her again.  
“It was just a dream.”  
“What did you dream about? Ann questioned, pressing her lips to Anne’s forehead, more out of habit than anything else.  
“I… I was in this ballroom... there was this feeling of joy at first, I think I’d talked to a princess. I know that sounds odd…” Anne smiled up at her, but Ann didn’t return her smile, she looked serious,  
“You said a ballroom? A princess? Not by any chance Princess… oh what was her name…?” Ann pressed her fingers to her head,  
“Oh, right, not Princess Caroline?”  
“Yes, how did you know?” Anne lifted her head from Ann’s shoulder,  
“You told me, when you came back from Copenhagen. Well, you told me of this ball you attended – the Queen’s birthday ball.”  
“In Copenhagen?” Anne realised that this might have been a memory after all, and not just a silly dream where she had hung out with royals.  
“Mm, you had to dress head to toe in white satin.” Ann smirked, and Anne laughed,  
“I must have looked ridiculous. I did, in my dream, that’s why I thought it weren’t a memory. I thought about you, in my dream or memory, a lot. I couldn’t seem to get you out of my head. Everywhere I turned – there you were.  
Ann looked saddened at that, but smirked slightly,  
“It was terrible being apart. But it makes me appreciate you even when you lose your temper ten times a day.”  
“Ah, I never!” Anne gasped at her, and they looked fondly at each other,  
“Do you remember anything else?”  
“Names, Vere’s half-sister, Lady Harriett, I told her...” Anne paused, her forehead scrunching in thought,  
“I was in Vere’s townhouse, she had a baby, and she told me I should go to Copenhagen because her half-sister Lady Harriett was gagging for some decent company.”  
“Good. Vere had a baby yes, Anne.”  
“She named the baby Anne?” Anne raised an eyebrow, and Ann nodded,  
“Yes, we met them last we were in London. She was very kind.”  
“Hm.” Anne agreed, Vere was everything lovely and kind, and a good friend to have, after all Vere hadn’t exposed her even after Anne had gravely misread her intentions.  
“I was trying to distract myself from my disappointment, my heartbreak – over you.” Anne sighed, and Ann turned her face to hers with her fingers, pressing a kiss to her lips gently,  
“It wasn’t a great eleven months, the nights were the worst though. I don’t know how I got through!”  
“I’m glad I have you! You know, you might just be the best thing about this whole ordeal with the memory loss.”  
“Is that so?” Ann smirked at her and Anne chuckled,  
“Yes. From what I remembered, it seemed hopeless, like I’d do better to just forget about the whole thing – to then wake up, still thinking that was the case and find out you’re my wife – now that’s what I call a pleasant surprise!”  
“Sometimes I think you just say things like that to see if you can make a permanent blush appear on my cheeks.” Ann blushed, and Anne seemed pleased with herself, and leaned down kissing the corner of Ann’s lips. Though she’d rather rid herself of the pain, and regain her memories, it wasn’t all unpleasant. She had Ann by her side, and she was certain they could face absolutely anything together.  
  
_Amor vincit omnia._


	11. Chapter XI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter XI

It had been a full week since Anne woke up in bed with her memories gone. This morning she was finally allowed out of bed, downstairs, but only if she promised to be honest and tell Ann if her head began giving her much discomfort and if she became faint. Ann promised in return not to use the word faint but light-headed, as Anne argued she wasn’t the fainting kind of lady.  
  
Ann held Anne under her arm, leading her downstairs, though Anne had persisted as they stepped foot out of her bedroom, that she could make it on her own. The other occupant’s around the table looked up and smiled as they saw her,  
“Good morning.” Ann greeted,  
“How are you feeling dear?” Aunt Anne inquired as Anne sank down in her usual seat around the table, reaching for the bread, but Ann swatted her hand lightly, helping her so she needn’t be caused any pain by her slightly bruised ribs, or by accidentally moving her head in a way that would upset her wound.  
“I’ll be better in no time.” Anne assured her aunt, and Marian rolled her eyes at her, for Lord knows what reason. Perhaps Marian thought her sister too glib, as she was evidently not recovered.  
“There was a note come for you this morning.” Marian began and Anne craned her neck to look at her,  
“From whom?”  
“Mr Washington, he wondered if he might have a word with you.”  
“You read it?” Anne sneered annoyed but Marian brushed it off for once,  
“You should tell him you can’t see him.”  
Anne was infuriated with Marian for reading her letter and for then trying to tell her what she should do.  
“Joseph,” Anne called, and he came bustling to serve,  
“Ma’am?”  
“Pen and paper, I need to pen a word to Mr Washington which I want you to make sure he gets after I’ve written it.” Anne ordered and he bowed his head and went to fetch her things.  
“You won’t see him, right?” Marian looked at her insistently, but Anne didn’t grace her with a look, merely took a bite of the piece of toast Ann had helped prepare for her.  
“What I do or not do regarding my estate affairs – is none of your business and I would love for you to not stick your nose in it.”  
“Why must you always be so stubborn?” Marian complained but Anne, who clearly had no want to neither fight nor talk more with Marian, ignored her and accepted the things Joseph had fetched for her. Writing down a quick reply, giving Joseph the note before returning to her breakfast and the company.  
“I thought I’d embark on a short walk this afternoon.” Anne announced and Aunt Anne looked worriedly at her,  
“Is that wise? What if something happens?”  
“Ann has offered to take me. We will stay near the house, but if I do not get fresh air soon, I shall perish.” Anne gave her aunt a smile to reassure her, and she calmed a little but didn’t seem entirely convinced it was a good idea. If Anne collapsed, her aunt didn’t think Ann alone could carry her back inside.  
“Where’s Catherine?” Anne looked around the table, realising she hadn’t seen the woman since waking up.  
“Oh, she went home that same day – I should have told you.” Ann replied,  
Anne gave a nod before continuing eating her breakfast, just enjoying being downstairs – out of bed.  
  
After breakfast, Anne was again helped, quite unnecessarily she thought, upstairs to get dressed a little more properly with Eugenie’s assistance, she needed to at least be fully dressed for the meeting with Washington that she had agreed to merely to spite Marian.  
  
Anne was now seated in the drawing room, waiting for Mr Washington to arrive, and he was always timely from her remembrance.  
Nothing seemed to have changed there, he arrived on the dot,  
“Mr Washington to see you, ma’am.” Joseph announced him and Anne sat up a little straighter,  
“Show him in.”  
Mr Washington came in, hat in hands and greeted her warmly,  
“Miss Lister, ma’am, how are you? I heard you’d been in a bit of an accident.”  
“Mm, I’m on the mend.” Anne replied courtly, and she motioned for the seat opposite of hers,  
“Please sit down.”  
Mr Washington sat down in the seat she pointed to,  
“I wanted to discuss the pits.”  
Anne ran a hand over her eyes in a moment’s agitation, surely, they weren’t still on about that. They must have got somewhere in three years.  
“What exactly?”  
“Well, since they opened, we have been making a fair amount of profit from them, and I wondered if, and this was just suggested to me by the coal merchant, might you get another pit sunk?”  
“Wait, I have two coal pits?” Anne was stunned for a second, “Up and running?  
“Um, well, yes? Are you alright, ma’am?” Mr Washington eyed her with caution and Anne gave a nod,  
“I’m fine…”  
This was great news, and she supposed Ann must’ve borrowed her some money. It had all gone according to her plan. Anne wanted to know though, if they had managed to prove the trespass; the fact that the Rawson’s had been stealing her coal.  
“If you’d consider sinking a new pit, that would be most advantageous at the ---, and unlike last time, there wouldn’t be a risk…” Mr Washington trailed off, he seemed to realise that it might be a mistake to bluntly point out the fact that Miss Lister’s finances had improved vastly since then. Anne let it be, though she understood in what direction he was heading, she was struck suddenly by an image in her head, of a collapsed pit,  
_“It’s recoverable. It just needs more money throwing at it.”  
_“The pit collapsed.” Anne murmured, and Mr Washington raised an eyebrow,  
“Yes. But we made a great recovery and it wouldn’t entail the same risk this time. But it’s just a suggestion, Miss Lister.”  
Anne wasn’t hearing what he said, all she could think about was that feeling, that memory – of standing over the pit, struggling not to cry as she realised that she had no money left, no hope and no one – she had gambled Shibden.  
“Ma’am?”   
Anne startled from her thoughts, looking up, giving a slight nod,  
“I need to look it over, but no it isn’t impossible, and if it’s profitable then it might well do.”  
“Excellent, I will look into it in more depth if you like?”  
“Mm. Thank you, Washington.”  
Mr Washington stood up to leave but Anne opened her mouth and he stopped as he focused on her, but she decided against it. She didn’t want it to become known everywhere that she had lost some of her memory.  
“Was there something else, ma’am?” Mr Washington inquired,  
“No, I will see you again when I have looked into the possibility of sinking another pit.” Anne told him and then she rang the bell signalling that the meeting was over.  
  
Ann came into the room as soon as he had left, and greeted Anne with the warmest of smiles,  
“How did it go?”  
“I just blurted out ‘I have two pits?’” Anne told her, sharing a laugh with her wife, who sat down next to her on the sofa.  
“Did you tell him? About your memory loss?” Ann observed her, and Anne shook her head,  
“No, I don’t want everyone to know, I played it down. I did remember the pit collapsing though!”  
“Oh really? That’s excellent news. Do you know, that’s where I found you, you were standing at the top of that hill, shouting at the top of your lungs...”  
“When you came back from Scotland?” Anne asked and Ann smiled,  
“Yes. I have never been happier to her your screams.”  
“Was it about the pit?”  
“Hm, I think it was everything gone wrong.” Ann replied,  
“Did I manage to prove the trespass?” Anne questioned, eying Ann closely, and she beamed,  
“Well, yes. But Jeremiah Rawson offered to pay for it if you didn’t press charges against them.”  
“And did I press charges?”  
“No. You allowed them to pay for the coal they had stolen, which I think was just as good considering Christopher’s on the bench. They might’ve sneaked their way out of it then.”   
“I’m happy so long as they have learnt that I’m not one to be messed about, and that they won’t try to cheat me out of anything again.” Anne said then and Ann placed her hand on her arm,  
“Yes, and I bet they have learnt their lesson, but now I think it is time for you to come with me upstairs to rest your poor head for a bit before we go outside.”  
“Are you patronising me?”  
“Me!? Why I would never!” Ann told her with a wink, and Anne groaned but knew better by now than to argue against Ann on this, and she was feeling hopeful as her memories seemed to return quicker and more frequent. Maybe all would be well? 


	12. Chapter XII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can't believe it's already the last chapter. I just wanted to thank everyone who has read this. I didn't think anyone would like it much - just a silly idea I had. So thanks for all the support! Xx 
> 
> Chapter XII

To say that Anne was beginning to run out of patience was a vast understatement. She was bored and frustrated. It had been almost a fortnight since her accident, and she hadn’t regained all her memories and her head wasn’t quite restored yet. She had hardly been allowed outside, and only ever within thirty feet of the house and if someone could go with her, even Aunt Anne had more freedom than she! Anne was tired of being treated as an invalid, and she was certain that moss soon would grow on her if she stayed still for much longer. Her temper wasn’t great either, because of it – the boredom, the idleness, the lack of movement and excitement, so she wasn’t much fun to be around.  
  
“Are sure you will be alright if I go into Halifax?” Ann wondered, worry etched on her face, she didn’t want to leave Anne alone, especially not when she was this way – irate and bored. She didn’t trust Anne to stay in her bed.  
“I’m capable of taking care of myself, thank you. You go, I’ll be alright.” Anne told the blonde, her tone short and irked. Ann seemed a little uneasy, biting her lip,  
“Do you want me to get anything for you? Do you have enough ink?”  
“Yes. Just go!” Anne muttered and Ann leant down to kiss her, but Anne turned her back to her and Ann sat up straight again feeling slighted and upset at that. She touched her arm gently,  
“I’ll be back soon. Take care of yourself, don’t do anything stupid…”  
“I’m not an idiot!” Anne barked, biting Ann’s sentence off, and the blonde’s eyes widened,  
“I never said you were!”  
“No, but you are treating me like one.” Anne huffed, her back still turned against her, and Ann sighed,  
“Oh great sigh, sigh more please! – You have so much to sigh over – ‘Oh no, I can go about as I like, but it’s such hard work to manage you’” Anne mocked Ann and despite herself, tears welled up in her eyes and she stood up,  
“Forgive me for caring about you!” Ann’s voice betrayed her, but she left before her eyes did too, slamming the door shut behind her. Anne felt a pang in her chest, but she ignored that, focusing on how angry she was at being bedbound, she was fine – and she could take care of herself. Anne lay in bed fuming, listening to the sounds downstairs, hearing them leave, feeling even more upset at that. It was taunting her that they might go about as usual.  
“I could go about as usual… I’m fine!” Anne said aloud, to no one but herself and the walls surrounding her. Something woke in her chest, a determination and Anne sat up quickly, feeling a twinge in her wound but she ignored it, standing up. Anne didn’t bother calling for Eugenie to get dressed, the woman might have instructions from her wife not to heed her. No, Anne dressed herself with some struggle, she was going to show them that she was absolutely fine, and that they were all just overprotective sods. When she was dressed, she went for the door but stopped herself, it would be a mistake to go down there. Anne opened the servant’s entrance and snuck down the servant’s stairs quickly, despite her head protesting a little against the hurried movements. She could hear her aunt and father in the sitting room, talking and she sneaked, almost on toe, through the kitchen and out the back door. She slowly closed the door behind her when she was startled by a voice,  
“Ma’am?”  
It was John Booth, and Anne calmed,  
“Booth.”  
“Is it wise of you to go out alone?” He asked, having been instructed not to let Miss Lister out by both Miss Marian and Miss Walker. Anne threw him an annoyed glare at that,  
“I’d say that’s none of your business, John.”  
“Only I had been told not to let you go outside by Miss Marian and Miss Walker.” John mumbled nervously; Miss Lister really could unnerve him with a look. Anne blew air out of her nose frustrated,  
“Well, you’re my staff, I employ you, and if you tell a single soul then I will turn you out without mercy!”  
“Right, Ma’am. Sorry.” John hurriedly said, moving out of her way to let her pass him.  
Anne was not in a good mood; how dare they tell her staff not to let her pass? She was not a naughty child that needed sitters. She was a grown woman who could make her own decisions. Anne sulked off, not really knowing where to turn, she had no appointments nor any actual business to take care off – not that she knew of anyway. But she would enjoy a nice long walk. It would only do her good, despite the twinges she felt from her wound.  
She embarked upon Shibden road, going away from the house, thinking she’d check out her new pits. She was proud of that, it meant she was well on her way to restore Shibden’s drooping fortunes. Anne looked about herself, the place already looked much better – they had done some nice improvements these last three years, especially to the gardens. It looked more like a parkland now.  
It was a bit of a walk to get to the pits, and Anne were at loath to admit it, and wouldn’t, no, refused to admit it to herself, but her head was hurting more with every single stride she took. But she was stubborn. She glanced at the hill with a bit of trepidation because she was beginning to feel a tad lightheaded and nauseous from the pain in her head. Anne however pushed that aside, growling at herself for being such a pansy. She had climbed mountains; she could stalk up a hill without any struggles.  
“They’ll see.” Anne slurred angrily, as she began ascending the hill to get to the pit. She was almost at the top, when she was hit with a dizzy spell, and stumbled – losing the ground under her, tumbling down a few feet, hitting her head and then everything went black.  
  
Anne woke up again, only to realise she wasn’t lying in the mud by the pits, she was in bed. ‘Oh-uh’ she thought, she was in trouble.   
Ann noticed Anne was moving, and that her eyes opened, and she appeared before her eyes, eyes red, and her expression thunderous,  
“You bloody idiot!” She cried, her voice breaking a little, as tears ran down her cheeks,  
“How could you?! When you knew you weren’t fine yet! Just to spite me because you were angry with me?”  
Anne pressed her fingers to her hurting head, trying to sit up better, Ann helped her despite being upset with her.  
“I…” Anne began but she stopped, green in the face, Ann looked worried,  
“Do you need something to throw up in?”  
“No.” Anne swallowed hard, and Ann looked mildly disgusted at that, but shrugged it off,  
“Explain yourself! You could’ve got yourself killed! Why would you do that!? What if I had hurt myself, and then gone out on an idiotic ‘excursion’ just because I was frustrated, and then collapsed!? You would have been worried sick and berated me for it. You’ve got to stop thinking you are immortal!” Ann was upset, and justly so but Anne couldn’t even take in what she was saying, her mind was in a complete muddle.  
“Shush.” Anne begged her, pressing her fingers harder to her temples, and Ann huffed,  
“Don’t shush me! You brought this upon yourself!”  
“Ann… please!” Anne pleaded, her forehead wrinkling as she tried to shut out all sound and concentrate on what was going on inside her head.  
“What? Oh? - Is your poor head hurting? Well then, next time don’t go out on your own when your head isn’t healed! Seriously Anne, we shouldn’t have to watch you like a child! You are a grown, intelligent woman – start acting like it!” Ann glared at her, as she yelled and Anne covered her face with her hands, sighing, trying to block Ann out, even though she was right in what she said.   
“Anne!?” Ann touched her shoulder a bit harsh, “Are you listening to me!?”  
“I think I remember.” Anne mumbled, hands still in-front of her face, and Ann looked confused,  
“What?”  
“I think I remember – everything!” Anne repeated, removing her hands from her face, meeting Ann’s confused eyes.  
“Are you serious? Or are you just trying to distract me from yelling at you?” Ann was eying her sternly.  
“No, I remember. There was a shot fired from afar, probably someone hunting, and Jack got spooked and began fussing and I was thrown out of the saddle. I was out riding because I was trying to make a point – that taking a horse isn’t much faster than walking, counted the time you needed to prepare him.”  
“You really do remember everything?” Ann’s expression softened, and Anne grinned,  
“Oh, yes… _everything._ ”  
Anne winked at the blonde who flushed, and then Ann swatted her over the chest,  
“Ah why must you be like this?”  
“Because, _Adney_ I love you!”  
Ann’s eyes grew wide as well as the grin that appeared,  
“So you really do remember everything?!”  
“I told you.” Anne smiled,  
“Oh, I love you – you idiot!”  
“Just to be clear – I don’t want my new pet name to be ‘idiot’, I’d like ‘pony’ back.” Anne said, and Ann laughed at her and with relief, kissing the brunette soundly on the lips, and Anne pulled her down for another, more passionate kiss.  
“I am just so happy being with you.” Anne murmured against her lips and Ann smirked,  
“It’s a good thing you feel that way, because you need to stay inside for another fortnight, since you hit your head again.”   
“WHAT!?” Anne cried horrified, and Ann laughed,  
“Believe you me when I say, I’m not looking forward to it!”  
“None of us are!” Marian said as she entered through the door, and Anne huffed and sighed dramatically in bed but soon all would be well again. After all, if you are knocked down you always come back stronger.  
  
 **The end.**  
  



End file.
